Just like sleeping
by Nea-9
Summary: What if it had been House, not Amber? Huddy, partly Cuddy's POV. New chapter added! PLEASE review!
1. Chapter 1

„House, MD" doesn't belong to me, and neither do the characters. A violation of copy rights is not intended.

English isn't my first language, and this story was not corrected by a beta reader. Please have mercy, I am trying my best.

Summary: What if it had been House, not Amber? Major inspiration for this came from Björk's song "Play dead". This is really short.

Partly Cuddy's POV.

WARNING: Character Death!

* * *

_I play dead  
it stops the hurting  
I play dead  
and hurting stops_

_it's sometimes just like sleeping  
curling up inside my private tortures  
I nestle into pain  
hug suffering  
caress every ache_

_I play dead  
it stops the hurting_

_Björk – Play dead_

**Just like sleeping**

You couldn't tell that Amber had been in an accident.

Like a pale marble statue she stood next to Wilson, both her arms locked around his left one, her head resting on his shoulder. From time to time, Wilson would bend down a little to kiss her golden hair.

There was a cut above her left eye, and a brace around her left wrist, the only visible leftovers on the outside. The inside on the other hand was a bit of a different matter.

Lisa Cuddy didn't know anything about Amber's feelings or her state of mind, she wasn't really acquainted with the other woman. There had been a few visits out of courtesy during the few days Amber had been recovering at the hospital, but nothing more.

All Lisa knew was that Amber had been one of the doctors House had considered to hire, that House had nicknamed her Cutthroat Bitch, that she shared a few similarities with House when it came to their personalities…and that she seemed to be Wilson's great love. Or at least the current one. A week ago, Lisa had decided that this was all she needed to know.

Amber wasn't crying, and her eyes weren't particularly red, but it seemed as if she wasn't able to look up from the ground.

There were a few people at the funeral Cuddy didn't recognize, she suspected them to be relatives. Most of them were trying to calm down Blythe House – his mother, who was crying in an almost hysterical manner. His father had decided not to attend, and now, for the first time in her life, Lisa began to understand that there had been a good reason for the hate House had felt for his father.

The others seemed to be colleagues of maybe friends from different stages in House's life. A few women were among them.

Wilson looked like he had been crying, he looked like he had been crying a lot, but only his red eyes gave him away. Otherwise his face was a mask.

_'He isn't sure how he is supposed to feel right now…should he be grateful for Amber being alive or grieving over House's death? It is difficult for him to be feeling both things at the same time.'_ Lisa thought_._

She sighed. Yes, he would grieve, he would be in pain over the loss of his best friend, and it would take some time for him to get back on track.

But one day, he would forget about House. He would marry Amber and have a child with her. Maybe even two. And they would live happily ever after.

Cameron was crying. She had tears streaming down her face like a small child, but wasn't uttering a single sound. She was holding a rumpled handkerchief to her left cheek, her small hands curled into fists.

Chase sat next to her, with his arm around her shoulders. He wasn't crying, just staring at a spot in a far distance only he seemed to be aware of.

Foreman had his face buried in his hands, so people wouldn't see, he didn't look like he was crying, but Lisa was sure he had to deal with his own fair share of grief.

It didn't seem like such a bad idea, so she lifted her hands to cover her eyes. Maybe, if she held them close long enough, all this would go away.

Yes, Wilson and Amber would be getting married, and so would Chase and Cameron. And Foreman…would try to be the best doctor he could be, and eventually find his own personal happiness. They all would. Because when you really thought about it, things turned out the way they just had to turn out.

_'The young couple in love is safe, and the old cripple dies.'_ Lisa had to bite her lip to keep the sobs from breaking out of her. Yes, House would be forgotten. A distant memory of a misanthropic man they once used to work for, but nothing more.

Lisa took her hands out of her face and noticed they were wet. Traces of mascara clung to her pale fingers like black ink.

As they let the coffin slowly sink into the wet earth, Lisa remembered the time when House had decided to stick a knife into an electric outlet. His heart had stopped and he had to be reanimated – that man had seemed to collect cardiac arrests like other people collected stamps.

She had been standing next to his hospital bed, torn between the urges to hit him and scream, or to hug him and cry. His eyes had been closed, but he had opened them for her as she quietly called his name.

_"House?"_

_"Hm?"_

_"What is it like?"_

_"What are you talking about, Cuddles?"_

_"Being dead."_

_He had smiled, and it had caused a shiver to run down her spine._

_"It's sometimes just like sleeping."_

* * *

Okay, so that was it. I had this idea when I was watching the season finale, and I thought: Would everybody be reacting like this if it had been House? Sure, people would be sad and all, but I had the impression that there'd be a reaction like: 'Oh he died? How sad. Well, thinning the herd, right?' So I felt compelled to write this. Just to do House a tiny bit of justice.

Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

„House, MD" doesn't belong to me, and neither do the characters. A violation of copy rights is not intended.

English isn't my first language, and this story was not corrected by a beta reader. Please have mercy, I am trying my best.

A/N: I didn't plan on writing a sequel to 'Just like sleeping', but I simply had to, I couldn't leave it at this. So I hope you like it. This is very short. PLEASE read and review!

Again, this was inspired by Björk's song 'Play dead'. Funny how much you can suck out of own song, huh? ;)

WARNING: Character Death!

* * *

_Private Tortures_

There hadn't been a lot of blood. Actually, she had barely felt it. A sharp pain, followed by a few cramps, but that was it. She didn't even faint, didn't even feel dizzy.

It was strange, because this time – THIS time – she had expected it to be a lot more painful, bloody, and dramatic.

Two years ago she had lost her first child - the result of artificial insemination - and for her it had felt like a piece of her heart had died with it.

And now…this. But this was different.

It had happened at the hospital, so she supposed she could consider herself lucky, for she had received immediate medical attention. No one had asked her about the child's father, they all probably suspected she had picked yet another anonymous donor from a catalogue.

It all wasn't such a big deal anymore, really.

Dr. Monroe, one of the gynaecologists at Princton Plainsborough had told her to go home and get some rest, the last few weeks had been too stressful, and she needed to get better.

Lisa had only nodded and left.

She needed to get better – yeah, right! Thanks for the diagnosis and good advice. Did you ever notice that sayings like '_Always look on the bright side of life_' or '_Go home and get some rest, things will look better in the morning'_ can really piss you off or make you hurt even more?

At home, Lisa had locked the door behind her and closed the curtains of her bedroom windows. She just lay on her bed, studying the ceiling, her left arm behind her head. She didn't move and didn't get up for food or drink.

She stayed like that for a full three hours.

Then, she finally burst into tears.

As a child, she sometimes had to cry so hard that it shook her, her sobs came like hiccups, her throat was burning as were the tears on her cheeks. This had stopped when she had grown older. Sure, she still had to cry sometimes, but it wasn't the same anymore. This afternoon, Lisa got reintroduced to this form of shedding tears.

Three weeks after his funeral she had found out that she was pregnant. The strip had actually turned pink. They'd only had sex one damn single time, and it had been enough.

_'Maybe I should have tried it with him from the beginning on.' _She thought bitterly and had to laugh despite her painful weeping.

She didn't know why they had done it, she really didn't. She had shown up on his doorstep, simply because she had wanted to see him. There hadn't been a lot of explaining, and somehow, they had ended up in bed together. Maybe it had been the human need to be close to someone every once in a while.

For a reason unknown to her she had never tried to imagine how it would be like…to tell him that he was going to be a father, that they would have a child together. But then again, he had probably been the most un-domestic person she had ever known, she couldn't even picture him with a child.

Then she had started to think of it as some sort of parting gift, and she had been happy that with this baby, a piece of him was still alive. Maybe it was his own way of leaving something back in this life. Maybe he had felt that he was going to die. The few weeks that she had been pregnant were the happiest in a very long time. There was still a lot of sadness and grief in her, but things had a better outlook now. She had the chance to be a mother…to be a mother to his child.

She cried herself to sleep, and when she woke again, she didn't feel better. Not even a bit, big surprise. But she had enough strength to get out of bed and into her bathroom.

After the bus accident she had been at his house a single time to get two things. His place had looked just like he had left it in the morning, books and magazines piled everywhere, dirty dishes in the sink. She had paid his bedroom a visit and stood in front of his bed for about 15 minutes. It was unmade, the white sheets were rumpled. He had changed them since the last time she had been here, THEIR sheets had been light blue.

Lisa had found what she had been looking for in an ebony closet in his living room. A brand new bottle of whiskey. That had to be enough.

For the rest she had to do a little more searching, but she came across it eventually. She was on her way out, when she stopped dead in her tracks. She hadn't planned on taking anything else, but she simply wanted to have it. And seriously, she was sure no one would mind if she took it.

She wasn't quite sure why she had done all this, but she simply had felt the need. Then she had found out about the baby, and things were different again.

But now…

She studied her reflection in the bathroom mirror, and saw a pale woman with sad grey eyes. Left alone with her private tortures.

* * *

Doctor Lisa Cuddy, dean of medicine at the Princton Plainsborough Teaching Hospital, was found dead in her bedroom by her secretary the next day. She had killed herself with an overdose of Vicodin, swallowed down with half a bottle of single malt whiskey. Doctor House's silver cane - the one he used to wear along with a black suit – lying next to her. No one asked why.

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Okay guys, I know this was sad, but I just felt like I had to add this. PLEASE review and tell me what you think!


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